Nikolai, Called Nikko
by The Iliaddict
Summary: The story of Irina's son, Nikolai Spasky and his life as it spirals into Greek mythology. Disclaimer: I don't own PJO of the 39 Clues. Unfortunately.
1. Chapter 1 Orphans

**(Author's Note: Hello, all, it's WIB! Thanks for clicking on this button for my third fanfic ever! Please read and review! Disclaimer: I do not own the 39 Clues or Percy Jackson & the Olympians)**

Chapter One

Orphans

"Would you believe me if I told you I was going bonkers?" My new friend, Pruella Park, murmured as we walked through the snowy field. Pru has lengthy brown hair and questionably dark brown eyes.

"I can't say, but you've always been a little bit, you know, odd," I replied. She shoved me onto the snow and I didn't bother to get up. I stared breathlessly at the falling snowflakes above us. Pruella fell down beside me and we both gazed at the swirling snow.

"Where do you come from, Pru?" I asked her.

"Antarctica. I was born here and I will die here," she answered in a small voice.

"It's not so bad," I said. I moved to my left a couple feet and began to make a snow angel. Pruella shrugged and started her own snow angel.

"How about you, Nikko?" she asked me. I tilted my head to face her.

"Russia." I mumbled. She sat up from the snow.

"Really?" Pruella gave me an inquiring look. I sat up as well.

"Yes." I said as I tucked my chin into my crossed arms. "When I was nine years old, my mother left me with our neighbor, Anna, for two days. While she was gone, I became ill. Anna sent me to America to find good doctors. Anna thought I would die. She dropped me off in America and left me there. She had treated me like I was already dead. I barely survived. I never saw my mother again. I moved here shortly after I was well again." I stood and began kicking clumps of snow.

"Nikko, that's so sad," Pruella said, holding her hand to her heart.

"I don't like remorse, so stop," I muttered. Pruella stood and folded her arms.

"I try to be nice to you, and you get mad at me?" she asked incredulously.

"Pretty much." I shrugged and started trekking back to where we had come.

"Is Mr. T back at the home?" I asked Pruella.

"I think so," she replied quietly. We hiked wordlessly up the remainder of our path.

Later that night, Pruella and I gathered around the little children at the home for story telling. Pru and I are a little old for fairy tales, but I've always found the stories that Mr. T told intriguing. Mr. T is a big man, with a big bulging stomach. He is surprisingly kind and compassion, despite his disgruntling appearance.

"In the beginning there was nothing but Chaos…" Mr. T began. Most of the kids groaned; we had heard this one before. Pru and I shushed them. Mr. T nodded at us kindly. He continued his story. He told of how the Earth, Gaea, was formed from chaos and how her descendants formed the world that the Greeks had known. I listened intently, but soon grew tired, for the story was very long.

Over an hour later, all of the orphans were asleep, save Pru and I. Mr. T ended his story with how the gods lived on to this very day. I didn't believe a word of it, but Mr. T's expression was so serious, I thought that if I were to contradict him, I would be pulverized.

Pru and I carried two sleeping children at a time to the girl and boy's dormitories, I with the boys, and she with the girls. We were feeling like the living dead when we finished, we were so tired.

Mr. T retired to his sleeping quarters and left Pruella and I alone in the living room. We decided to sleep in there; it was packed in the dormitories as it is. After what felt like a couple hours of not being able to fall asleep on couches as soft as Mr. T's biceps, I turned to Pru.

"Is it morning yet?" I whispered. No answer.

"Pru, you awake?" I asked her lump of blankets.

"No," came the grumbling response. I chuckled.

"Pru, look at the stars," I told her.

"Mmmmm," she mumbled, but I heard her turn in her covers towards the windows.

"Mmmmm," she repeated, this time in satisfaction. The stars were beautiful tonight.

"Are you my friend?" she asked.

"Yes," I mumbled. "Why?"

"My friends never last long," she whispered. I sat up to stare at her though the darkness of the room. A light from the bathroom shined dimly about her. She was rapped up tightly in her blankets and I could see tears glistening on her cheeks.

"Why?" I inquired. Pru scrambled off her couch and stumbled toward me. She attacked me with a big bear hug.

"Oof!" I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Thank you for being my friend," she whispered.

"Uhh… you're welcome, I guess," I grumbled.

Pru pulled away from me as if she had been struck.

"What'd I do?" I ruffled my hair self-consciously. I sniffed my under arms. I didn't spell _that_ bad did I?

"Nikko, it's not you who's doing this," she whispered. "It's _him._"

I stood up from my couch and stepped toward her. She was freaking me out.

"Who? Who's 'him'?" I asked her. I gripped her shaking hand.

"_Him_," she repeated. Okay, Pru wasn't making any sense.

"He's doing this to me," she sniffled.

"Pru, tell me who he is and I'll take care of him." I said.

"He driving me mad," she croaked.

"What?" I inquired. She gasped. Her hand tightened painfully on mine.

"I can't see!" She screamed.

"What do you mean?" I asked, having jumped at her scream. I heard children running from the dormitories to see what was going on. Mr. T arrived.

"Nikolai, what in all Creation is going on?" he yelled.

"I can't see!" Pruella repeated. Mr. T flicked on the light on the ceiling. Pru's eyes were shut tight.

"Well, yeah, you can't see! You're eyes are closed, silly!" I chortled at Pru's complete overreaction. Mr. T didn't look so sure.

"Pruella, open your eyes," he ordered. Pru opened her eyes hesitantly.

When she did, I gasped. Gone was her lovely warm brown eye color.

Pruella Park's eyes were a ghostly white blue.

**(A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!)**


	2. Chapter 2 The Cretin

**(Author's Note: Ah, chapter two is UP! Sorry for taking my time with it. xD Please review! I'd like three reviews before I can update!)**

Chapter Two

_The Cretin_

"No! Don't make her go, Mr. T!" I pleaded as Mr. T and I argued the day after Pru went blind.

"Nikolai, she can't live here! We're in the middle of nowhere, snow is everywhere! She could wander of, like she did yesterday with you, and get lost! She could fall somewhere if she was alone and not know how to find her way home!" Mr. T countered.

"Do you not _want_ her here?" I asked incredulously.

"Nikolai, Nikolai, I love you all like you were my own children. But she needs to go, for her own good," he muttered.

"'For her own good'?" I repeated. "That's not good enough!" I yelled.

"Go say goodbye to her. The plane will come for her soon." Mr. T turned away from me and marched off to his office. I huffed, irritated.

I stepped out of the room and ran smack into Pruella. She fell to the ground and I quickly helped her up.

"Sorry, Pru, I'm such a klutz." I mumbled. She shrugged.

"No big deal. Where you fighting with Mr. T about me?" she asked in a small voice.

"No, not really," I lied. She frowned.

"I don't appreciate being lied to," she threw over her shoulder as she walked away.

"Wait, Pru. This might be the last day we see each other again. Please, let's not separate mad at each other," I pleaded. She sighed.

"Fine. Will you take me out to the snow drifts?" she asked.

"Mr. T doesn't think we should go wandering again…" I mumbled.

"Please, Nikko, I know this land like the back of my hand, inside out, backwards. You said it yourself; I may never come back here again." Pru began to finger a necklace I never noticed before. It looked like a twisted root, with small leaves coming from it.

I changed the subject. "Is that new?" I asked her. She looked at the necklace.

"What, this? No, I've had it for awhile," she responded.

"Oh. I've never noticed it before." I commented, stumped. Ha, _stumped_, her necklace was shaped like a _root._ Oh, never mind.

"Well, I usually wear turtle-neck sweaters, so I guess that explains it," she murmured, her blank eyes seeing nothing.

"Oh," I repeated.

"Take me to the snow drifts, now?" she asked. She held out her elbow so I could guide her.

"Fine," I hooked my arm around hers and we walked outside like that. We didn't even really notice we needed warmer clothes.

"I'm going to miss you, Pru," I told her as she was carted off unto the small plane. The plane's side read, _The Creation_, in large red made me laugh because, what with my learning disabilities, looked like it read _The Cretin._

"It's been fun." Was her response. Pretty lame, if you ask me. She wore an expression of pity and confusion. She pursed her lips as Mr. T led her up the plane's stairs. I soon saw her in the small window of the plane with her mixed expression. Mr. T patted her on the back lightly before stepping down the stairs back onto solid, snowy ground.

He and I waved, even though we knew she couldn't see us. We knew she knew we were there.

"Nikolai, I'm sorry about Pru; I know she was your friend." Mr. T said as he sat down on his favorite chair while I sat down on mine. We both sighed sadly as we stirred our hot chocolate.

"I know," I murmured before finishing off my warm drink. When I was done, I set it in the kitchen sink and walked outside to clear my thoughts.

The next day, as I was eating breakfast, the mail carrier came. We orphans know him as Mr. H, and that's pretty much all we know him as. Mr. T greets him with a different name every time he comes, which is daily. All the names start with the letter 'H', so that's where we got the name 'Mr. H' from.  
Today, the mail carrier was known as Herb.

"Good morning, Herb, nice to see you're on time!" Mr. T said merrily. _Of course_ he was on time, despite the fact we live in the middle of nowhere. Mr. H always, always, _always_ showed up, not a minute after eight o' clock in the morning.

"Good morning, sir," came his reply." Let's see…,"Mr. H shifted through his stack of mail," You've got bills…, bills…, bills…, newspaper…, ooh, and a letter from your father!" Mr. H said excitedly.

"Wonder what it says!" He whispered anxiously under his breath. Yeah, right. Like he didn't know exactly what was in the letter. Mr. H knows everything when it comes to letters. Isn't it illegal to read other people's mail? If it is, I know for a fact that Mr. H does not abide that law.

Mr. T sighed as he received the bills. Why are we taxed so much, anyway? We live in the middle of nowhere! I peeked over Mr. T's shoulder to read who had sent the bills, which was hard to do, considering Mr. T's height.

The letter wasn't addressed to anyone, but the return address was from Olympic Homing Co. I heaved a sigh and raised my hand for the newspaper. Mr. H slapped it down in my hand, like he always did, with a smile and a "Good morning." I nodded to show I had heard him and settled down on my green recliner.

I sipped some of Mr. T's special herb tea as I flipped lazily through the newspaper. I've never been one for reading, but I usually look for pictures in the papers. One picture showed a family of four waving enthusiastically in front of a new home. The next, a small plane with smoke flowing around it haphazardly. The next page, the best upgrade in lawn mowing technology. Wait, what was that last page? No, not the lawn mowing one! About the plane?

"Mr. T," I interrupted his conversation with Mr. H. Mr. T looked slightly annoyed, but I beckoned him towards me and the newspaper headline. He was taking too long.

"Mr. T!" I repeated. He threw me a look of utmost confusion as he made his way through the crowd of young children at his feet.

"What is it, Nikolai?" he asked, concerned. I pointed to the picture of the plane crash. The plane was clouded by smoke, but I could easily read, or read to the best of my ability, the bold red letters.

"Mr. T…, _The Cretin_," I whispered.

**(Author's Note: Hope you liked! Thanks for reading, all! Please review!)**


	3. Chapter 3 Lethal Pack for Five

**(Hello, all! I apologize for the belated updating :/ I want to start a new story soon! But I'm waiting for my buds to read the 10th book so as not to spoil for them... sooo, when I publish it...read&rate, please? Please don't forget to read and rate this, too! ;D Disclaimer: I do not own the 39 Clues or PJO.)**

Chapter 3

Lethal Pack for Five

Mr. T and I remained silent as Mr. H came up behind us.

"Go on, read the article," Mr. H encouraged. I bit my lip. As I said earlier, I am not one for reading.

"Umm, here, Mr. T, you can read it," I pressed the newspaper into Mr. T's beefy hand.

"Uh, alright," Mr. T accepted the newspaper reluctantly. Mr. H looked annoyed, but he let Mr. T begin.

"'Earlier today, we received a missing plane report from…'" Mr. T read. The article went on to tell of how Pru's plane was meant to land in southern South Africa, a ways away from the Antarctica Peninsula. Despite mountains of snow around the crashed plane, grape vines were said to be sprawling endlessly from the plane exits. I didn't even really register that fact. I was still in shock. When would they get to the part about Pru?

Pruella and the plane pilot were mentioned, finally, at the end of the announcement. Mr. T's voice faltered at the last sentence:

"'Pilot Stephen Harris and passenger Pruella Parker…,'" not only were Mr. H and I listening eagerly, but so were the young orphans.

Mr. T gulped. "'…were not to be found."  
-

I shoved my measly possessions into my small knapsack hurriedly. I was trying to be as silent as possible, but it was really hard to, considering my very loud wooden dresser drawers. About five minutes after I had started packing, I felt a soft tug on my windbreaker. I looked around and found a small, maybe a four-year-old, boy gripping my jacket. I had never seen him before, and that was strange, because there were only three other children at Mr. T's orphanage.

"Nikko? Where are you going, Nikko?" he asked me quietly. It irked me that the kid knew my name.

I hesitated. "Out," I answered stupidly.

"Out? With all your baggy and things, Nikko?" he cocked his head to the side.

"Yes," I replied, uneasily. "It's…it's almost time for lunch. You should go," I added, as I turned my back to him to make sure I had my compass in my knapsack.

"You lie," a much deeper voice commented. I wheeled around, to find Mr. H, right up in face. I jolted back.

"Mr. H? Uhh, where'd the little one go?" I asked weakly.

Mr. H groaned. "Look, kid, I go by a lot of names. Logios, lyre creator, Diactoros, Messenger, Agonios, Mercury, Psychopompos-"

"Psychopompos?" I snorted.

"Watch it, kid," he growled. I could see that this wasn't the usual jolly Mr. H who delivered our mail.

Mr. H raged on, "-but I do _not_ like the name Mr. H, and let's not get into the Psychopomps business."

"Alright, alright," I tried to loosen the tension.

"Now to my point: I know you're running off," he stated.

"Naw, really?" I indicated to my knapsack.

Mr., uh, should I call him the mail carrier dude? Anyway, he raised his thick eyebrow. I cowered under it.

"Don't tell Mr. T, don't tell Mr. T," I pleaded repeatedly.

"Don't tell me what?" Mr. T asked as he walked in, sipping some herbal tea.

"Nothing," I said quickly.

"Nikko's running away," mail carrier dude informed my guardian.

"Tattle-tale," I hissed at the delivery man as I narrowed my eyes.

"I know. Go," Mr. T responded calmly.

"You can't stop me from- Wait, what?" I asked incredulously. The tattle-tale gaped like a fish just as I did.

"Go," Mr. T repeated. "I already know I won't be able to stop you. I never could stop my brother."

"You have a brother, Mr. T?" I asked, confused. I had always thought of Mr. T as some kind of lonely only child sort of guy.

"Had, more like," mail carrier dude folded his arms.

Mr. T brought his hand down hard on my bedside table and yelled at the mail carrier. "He's still alive! We just can't find him!" he bellowed. I winced at a shard of wood that flew my way.

"Sure, sure," mail carrier dude said calmly. Mr. T looked so sad. Stupid mail carrier dude. I didn't even really know the guy, but I hated him.

"Would you stop it already, Nikolai?" my new enemy exasperated," I _have_ a name! I gave you a few already! I am _not_ a 'stupid mail carrier traitor tattle-tale dude'! I'm not!" he yelled. Talk about anger issues.

"Whoa, cool it, Hermes!" Mr. T tried to cool the stupid mail carrier dude down.

"Gah! You're still thinking it!" he turned to Mr. T," And why do you let him call you Mr. T, eh?

The name is _so_ drab. Even Apollo could do better!" Thunder rolled in the distance. Mr. T looked rather taken aback.

"Stop it, Nikolai Spasky, or I swear on the Styx, I will incinerate you on the spot!" the Hermes guy yelled.

Okay, I had heard bizarre threats before, like "I'll punch your brains out," and the like, but incinerating me? This dude was crazy.

"Oh, so now I'm crazy?" Hermes got up in my face.

"Yeah, you are!" I crossed my arms. Hermes looked ready to throw punches.

Mr. T stepped in front of us two. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy, guys," he ordered.

"Ha! You're telling me to take it easy? You think you're so big just because your daddy's got a lot of power! Well, you're not!" Hermes shrieked. He put his hands on his hips and closed his eyes.

"Nikolai, close your eyes!" Mr. T ordered. I shut them tight, but I could still see a bright light flash over my lids.

"You may open them now," Mr. T whispered. I opened my eyes and saw Mr. T packing a bag. The Hermes dude was nowhere in sight.

"What are you doing?" I asked Mr. T. He looked at me blankly.

"Packing," he answered quickly.

"Why?" I asked blankly.

"Nikolai, we've got about twelve hours before news reporters will swarm that crashed plane like flies to satyr droppings. It takes a while to pack for five," he explained.

"You're packing for five? Who?" I inquired.

"You, Shannon, Midge, Valentino, and myself," he replied simply.

"What? Mr. T-," I was cut short.

"You know, Nikolai, that name really is degrading. I'd like to be called by my first name."

"And what is that?" I frowned.

"Tyson. My name is Tyson," he smiled as stuffed what looked like about ten extremely sharp knives into a backpack.

"Tyson," I repeated, watching him pack more lethal weapons into his bag.

**(Thank you for reading, please review! I love you all! ;D -WIB)**


	4. Chapter 4 Hippie Ponies

**(Author's Note: Eek! I haven't updated in a while, have I? Please don't destroy my essence! Anyhow, read and review? :) I will shower you will cookies... someday. Disclaimer: Though I do own the books of both the 39 Clues and PJO, I am not the possessor of their copyrights. Therefore, both of these remarkable series are not mine. xD)**

Chapter Four

Hippie-Ponies

"Nikko, wake up. It's morning." I heard as a small hand nudged my shoulder. I sat up quickly, excited for our day ahead of us.

I hadn't bothered to change out of my clothes and into pajamas last night, so I excused the idea of changing into fresh clothes.

My eyes soon came into focus after I yawned and stretched. Trees surrounded me. Wherever I was, it was cold. My watch told me it was a quarter past five. Whether it was in the morning, or during the night, I had no idea. Tyson, the three other orphans, and I had trudged through snow for what had seemed like hours yesterday. For all I knew, it could have actually been two days ago, I felt like I had slept for so long.

"Nikko," the voice repeated.

"Oh!" I started, nearly jumping out of my skin.

Apparently, my eyes had not adjusted as well as I had thought, for Shannon, the youngest orphan, had been watching me the whole time, from not even five feet away.

After I had calmed down, I faced the six-year-old. "Where's Mr. T?" I asked.

"Tyson?" she replied. I hadn't known that she knew our guardian as Tyson. "He is waking the other two. Me and him have been up for _hours_."

"Where are the other two, anyway?" I mumbled.

"Have to talk louder," she chided me. I groaned exaggeratedly; I should have remembered how difficult it was to deal with Shannon.

"Never mind," I grumbled, but loud enough for her to hear. I stood and looked around.

"Where are we?" I asked, not that I expected Shannon to know.

"By water." Was her answer. I huffed. I supposed that's what I got for asking a six-year-old.

Shannon quickly grasped my hand and led me through the trees. I only had just enough time to snatch my backpack that I had apparently used for a pillow last night unto my back as Shannon broke into a swift trot.

The trees opened into a clearing, which Shannon led me to. The clearing spread out to reveal a large body of water, easily a lake or possibly ocean. Mr. T was crouched over the water. From behind, it looked like he might have been sick. The two other orphans, Midge and Valentino, watched him warily.

Unlike Shannon, Midge is fairly tall, but nowhere as tall as Valentino. He's taller than me, not that that's saying anything, and he just turned fourteen, whereas I'm fifteen. Midge is twelve, and I think she's proud of it. She had been getting tired of being called "kid" by me. She says that ever since she was ten, she has the reserved right of being called an adult. Yeah, right. And she still hangs on to every word that Mr T., Tyson, says during story time. All of them do, actually, even Valentino.

Midge looked frightening with her bed head, her reddish blonde hair sticking out all over the place. She wore a simple deep gray parka and pink ski pants, which definitely went perfectly with her hideous neon green snow boots. She didn't seem to notice that she was scaring all wild animals in the vicinity.

Valentino looked…bored. His blindingly light blonde hair was covered in flakes of snow, making him look like he had a serious case of dandruff. His dark green turtle neck could be seen protruding from his brown winter coat. He wore white jeans that looked vaguely familiar; had he taken them from my drawer?

Shannon and I shuffled over to the trio, trying to understand what in the heck Tyson was doing.

When we got close enough, I wondered if I was still dreaming. Tyson was… speaking to three large creatures in the water. They looked like …horses? I was asking myself over and over again how they possibly floated in the cold water. What they were, I didn't want to know. Shannon, however, did.

"_What_," she croaked. "Are _those_?" She shrieked as she ran toward the beasts. Tyson made no move to stop her, so I guessed that the whatever-they-weres weren't dangerous.

"These fabulous creatures," Tyson smiled, "are hippocampi."

* * *

No, of course Shannon didn't ask what a hippocampus was. No, she didn't ask why Tyson had gone to all the trouble of bringing them here. And certainly, she did give me enough time to ask if anyone else was feeling as weirded out as I was. What Shannon did ask, surprise, surprise, was what the "hippie-ponies'" names were.

According to Tyson, the largest in the middle he had christened "Rainbow" when he was young. He sure loved all three of them a whole lot, but Rainbow seemed sort of special to him. The other two's names were Smitt and Foaln. Shannon immediately recognized Tyson's closeness to Rainbow and fell over herself to make Smitt and Foaln feel loved, as if Tyson hadn't cared for them at all.

"But what are they for?" I finally had the courage to ask. Shannon sent daggers with her eyes at me; daring me to mention anything other than love hippocampi were useful for.

"Travel," Valentino answered numbly. He didn't look too happy about it.

"What, via water?" I snorted. Valentino nodded sharply.

"You're crazy, right? We don't even know if these things could hold us. I mean, look at them! They don't exactly look like boats!" I exasperated.

"Nikolai! They have ears!" Tyson warned, a bit too late. The hippocampi had already shot freezing water from their mouths unto my already cold self.

"Sorry," I grumbled, irritated with the hippie-ponies.

Midge stepped in. "Nick's right." I scoffed at the nickname; it just wasn't me. Midge continued, "How will we five, plus our bags, all fit on three hippocampi?"

Tyson grunted. "Hadn't thought of that." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. He peered at the hippocampi.

"You guys don't happen to have any friends, do you?" he asked them. They seemed to laugh as if that was a joke. _Duh!_ Their expressions seemed to say.

The head hippocampus, Rainbow, stuck his mouth in the water and… screamed? Whatever he did, he sent crazy vibrations through the water.

In no time at all, two other hippocampi had emerged from the icy waters. Rainbow stared thoughtfully at Tyson, and he stared back. This, I thought, was one of their forms of communication.

Tyson clapped his hands excitedly. "Meet Steve and Mike!" he announced. Shannon laughed happily, but Valentino, Midge, and I looked at each other pointedly. Note to self: Five hippie-ponies maximum per day for Shannon.

* * *

Ever rode a horse? Okay, maybe you've ridden a horse, but have you ever tried to straddle a fish? If so, you'll know what I mean when I say that riding a hippocampi was no fun at all. From Valentino's green face and Midge's pained expression, I could tell that they weren't enjoying the experience any more than I was. Our groaning was only overpowered by Shannon's screams of merriment and Tyson's yells of encouragement.

My hippocampus was like a jet ski. It jumped over the waves one by one, and I could just tell that it knew how much fun I was having. I had gotten stuck with Steve, the grumpiest of the hippocampi. Tyson would of given Shannon the privilege of riding Rainbow, but no other hippocampus could hold his weight. Shannon had been torn between Smitt and Foaln, but ended up choosing Mike. He had been looking very lonely, in her opinion. Midge had boarded Smitt, while Valentino seriously tried not to throw up on his first quarter of a mile on Foaln.

After what had seemed like, and quite possibly was, hours and hours, a small beach came into view. I hadn't even noticed that the water splashing had had its temperature rise considerably. For the most part, we had rode in silence. I could tell that we orphans, excluding Shannon, were feeling overwhelmed. No doubt still in the land of dreams, I reasoned. Half-fish, half-horses? That didn't even happen on Animal Planet.

"Land ho!" Shannon called from a hundred feet ahead of us.

"W-what's t-t-that?" Valentino managed through clamoring teeth.

Tyson's voice was filled with longing and we could just feel his homesickness. "That, my children, is Camp Half-Blood."

**(Author's Note: Thanks for reading, please review! ;D)**


	5. Chapter 5 Camp Mutant

**(Author's Note: Alright, I think I'm getting into a good pattern with my updating: once every week or so, during the weekend. Thanks for staying tuned, and please review!)**

Chapter 5

Camp Mutant

"I got the 'camp' part down, but what's with the 'half'? You don't have mutants running around here, do you?" Midge asked Tyson as the hippocampus slowed.

"In some sense, yes, we do have mutants." Tyson smiled. From his expression, it was as if he was talking about himself. This didn't make any sense, by the way.

The hippocampi were now pulling up to the shore of Camp Mutant. I didn't know what to expect, zombies coming to eat us? Aliens coming in peace? I didn't know what Valentino, Shannon, or Midge was thinking just then, but I knew that they weren't expecting kids playing volleyball come greet us.

The kids, teens, actually, wore orange t-shirts with a logo that was hard on my dyslexia. It wasn't hard to guess, though, since Tyson had already told us what the place was called: Camp Half-Blood. Or Camp Mutant. Whatever.

One of the teens, a guy of maybe thirteen years, stepped forward. He had annoyingly bright red hair and wore a vest covered in badges.

"Tyson?" he said, surprised. He grinned when he eyed us, especially Midge, who was absent-mindedly taking her neon boots off; it _was_ hot out here, after all. Other campers, who weren't mutants, as far as I could tell, stared at her strangely. Midge, finally noticing that everyone was watching her, stuck her hands in her pockets and looked down, her boots now at her feet, instead of on them.

While the volleyball-playing campers were busy scrutinizing Midge, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that another had walked into their mist. He had a chubby face and looked rather bored; it seemed as though he had only strolled over to join the party. He wore a Hawaiian-print button-down the color of road kill, cut jean shorts, and unlaced maroon gym shoes. His outfit, not to mention his misshapen curly hair and bloodshot eyes, was enough for me. I hated this guy right away.

The redhead regained his cool. "Tyson, who-"he began, but was cut off by gasps from his fellow campers. They were all looking at Midge, again, who looked annoyed.

"Hey, just because I wear different clothes, doesn't mean-"Midge gasped herself. "Oh, my."

Above Midge's head, a glowing staff, swirled by snakes, glowed. It made its way around Midge, shining brightly all the while, until it burst, showering small golden arrows like confetti.

"That was quick," snorted the man with the Hawaiian shirt.

Midge looked frightened, but she wasn't even fazed by the man's appearance, I guess she'd noticed him earlier, too. "W-what was quick?"

"Your claiming," he snorted again. "All hail." He rolled his bloodshot eyes.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped, confused.

"Watch your tongue, kid. Or it might just come off," the redhead from earlier snapped. He raised his hand and my tongue squirmed. Then, it wasn't there. My hand snapped up to my mouth. The crowd of volleyball players laughed.

"That's enough, Kent," the man sighed. "But still, you need to watch what you say."

"It's Keith," the redhead frowned as my tongue suddenly formed in my mouth again. I kept my mouth shut. Midge was confused as ever.

"Like you pathetic mortal children say, 'Whatever'." The man snapped his fingers and a Diet Coke appeared. He cracked it open and drank the whole thing, ending with a satisfied sigh.

Tyson shook his head good-naturedly. "Mr. D, where's Chiron?" he asked.

Mr. D, the man with the bloodshot eyes, jerked a thumb back toward a large blue house that I hadn't noticed earlier. Hey, I notice an apparent Diet-Coke-aholic, but not a big blue house on a hill. Go figure.

Tyson led us away from the campers, their laughter clear in the air. Mr. D walked with us as Tyson got us introduced.

"This is Mr. D-" Tyson began, but Mr. D interrupted.

"Don't waste your breath, Cyclops," he said. All of us threw alarming looks at our guardian, but I was the first to shrug it off. It was just a nickname, right?

"I'm your camp director, high and mighty," Mr. D continued. He glanced at Midge. "And you, little girl, are a daughter of Apollo."

"_Obviously_. And my name is Midge, not little girl!" Midge retorted.

"Midget, is it? I wasn't that far off," Mr. D mused.

"Hey! I am _above_ average height, Mr. D, if that's even your real name." Midge muttered.

"My name is Dionysus," Mr. D raised his voice. "God of wine, madness, festivities, and, most importantly, Diet Coke."

"Yeah, right," I snorted.

I felt a wave of dizziness and the smell of wine. I fainted.

* * *

I woke up with Tyson hovering over my face. I started, and yelped. He… he only had one eye.

"Tyson! Your… your eye!" I whimpered.

"What, oh, this guy? Right in the smack of my forehead? Yeah, it's been there for some time now, Nikolai."

"What?" I asked.

"Nikolai, I…" Tyson sat down hard on the end of my bed. He didn't seem to notice that he was cutting off all possible circulation in my legs. Tyson didn't get to finish, for Midge burst into the room. She grinned excitedly when she saw that I was awake.

"Hey, Nick!" She came to my bed and pinched my cheek. Ow.

"Someone's enthusiastic," I muttered, now not only my legs aching, but also my face.

"This place is amazing! Have you seen Cabin Seven? Oh, of course you haven't; you've been asleep." Midge paced around the room excitedly. My eyes followed her as she walked, and I got a good look of the room. It was some sort of hospital room, an infirmary. I figured that I was in the Big House.

I ruffled my hair lazily."Where are Shannon and Valentino?"

"Well, Shannon is with her cabin mates and Valentino with his. They both got claimed pretty fast." Midge continued to pace the room.

"Who picks who goes in which cabin, anyway?" I asked Tyson.

Midge spoke for him. "Uh, your parent does, duh."

"And how does that work out for us orphans?" I asked.

"We're not as orphaned as you think," Midge said, flashing me a smile as brilliant as the sun. Whoa, those were some shiny teeth.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I frowned. "I mean, I know we have Tyson and everything."

Tyson looked touched. "Thanks, Nikolai, but no, I'm not the only guardian you've got out there."

My befuddled expression urged him to continue. "Nikolai… Nikko, I know it's a lot to take in, but my stories are real," he said quietly.

"What, so you're saying that Goldilocks is real?" I snorted.

"Well, no. Not those stories. What other stories have I told you all?" Tyson asked.

"Myths," I replied. "Not at all, Nikko. Well, yes, you're right, but those stories are not myths." Tyson shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You mean Greek gods and goddesses?" I asked.

"Look, Nikko, I know I'm doing a bad job of explaining this. You should talk to Chiron," Tyson said.

"He's right, Nick. And no sweat; Chiron's awesome! Best archer ever!" Midge added.

"Alright, I'll talk to this Chiron guy," I muttered. I wondered vaguely when I would wake up from this dream and be home in Antarctica, with Pru…

"Pru! Tyson, we haven't found _anything_ out by coming to this camp! What was the point of this?" I banged my head against my bed's headboard before letting it sink into my pillow.

"Nikko, we'll find her, don't worry," Tyson assured me.

"How do you know? She could be dead for all we know!" I raged.

"Nick, cool it! Wait, I've got something…" Midge put her hands to her temples. I swear, if she was about to do some telepathic spell to find Pru, I'd faint again. Fortunately, she didn't; my head wouldn't have been able to hand that. Unfortunately, her next words were just as crazy, and not to mention annoying:

"Pruella Park is safe.

Her sisters will find her safe.

Pruella Park is safe."

"What was _that_?" I chortled.

Tyson laughed. "Midge has taken on some of her father's poetic expertise."

"Every line ended in 'safe'. Is that supposed to be a Haiku?" I commented.

"Yes, it is." Midge said stiffly. "

Don't Haikus have to deal with nature and stuff?" I asked.

Midge frowned. "My Haiku did deal with 'nature and stuff'," she retorted.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Where's this Chiron dude, anyway?"

"Oh, right. I'll go get him," Midge volunteered.

Once Midge had left the Big House, I turned to Tyson. "Seriously, how are we going to find Pru?"

"As Midge has said, her sisters will find her." Tyson shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to another.

"Pru has sisters?" I asked.

Tyson smiled. "Of course. Just ask the trees."

**(Author's Note: Guys, this is supposed to confuse you, if you are confused. If you aren't... dang it! Anywho, thanks for reading, please review! ;D)**


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